Making up for Past Mistakes
by Becky Stevens
Summary: Set six years in the future, this story explores what happens when a man comes home to turn the mistakes he made right again. Can he learn to live again? Bricole
1. Default Chapter

I have been away for a little while because I have become disillusioned by some of those on the Internet and their behavior. I have no problem with bashing a character, but the actor is a different story. I think that petty comments about appearance, boyfriends, husbands, wives, dates, and all have no place in our realm of discussion. I removed all of my stories because I had become so disappointed in some people that I did not want to share my work with anyone.

I have decided to try again because I do love writing. We'll see how it goes. If you were reading one of my previous stories, I have completed them all now. I'm not sure that I have the patience to post them here. I can e-mail you a copy though. Just let me know.

Becky

P.S. I am asking that you review my work. It's the only way it will get better.

_This is set 6 years - in the future. Everything that has happened on the show has happened in my story world. You will catch on to what is happening in the first chapter or so. _

**Chapter 1**

"Grandpa!" Annabelle exclaimed as she ran toward the older man, throwing her arms up into the air. Her honey blonde curls bounced on her head and her shiny black shoes echoed on the parquet floors.

"Annabelle!" John said back just as loudly. Struggling a bit to hold his balance, he knelt down on one knee and scooped the precocious child up into his arms. He held her tightly against him, soaking in the first hug he had had from his granddaughter in over a year. With an arched eyebrow, he examined his son's face over her shoulder, taking in the younger man's haggard appearance.

Brady smiled weakly back at his father, shaking his head to fend off any discussion that might upset his daughter. Tossing his worn leather jacket onto the cream colored sofa, he turned to thank the doorman who had carried up the bags that both he and his daughter had packed before they had left. "Doesn't look much different than the last one," Brady commented wryly as he looked around his father's new home.

"It's a place to hang my hat," John explained as he let the child out of his arms. "Let me just get this out of the way. You and Annabelle are welcome to stay here as long as you need. You know that." He patted his granddaughter on her head, sending her scampering over to the table where he had left out a few toys to pique her interest.

"Mommy too?" the little girl asked. "When she gets done with tour she'll need a place to stay."

Brady closed his eyes for a brief moment, searching for the strength to answer his daughter's question. Kids always seemed to know that something was wrong, but Annabelle kept her Pollyanna attitude going strong. She was totally unlike both her cynical parents. "Your mother isn't coming here to stay," he explained for what seemed like the tenth time that day. "You are going to stay with her at her place in Italy when she isn't on tour, but the rest of the time you and I will be here in Salem."

The child nodded with a bit more understanding before she was distracted by the giant staircase that led upstairs. "What's up there?" she pondered loudly.

"Go check it out," John answered swiftly. "There may be a room up there fit for a princess." He could not help but smile as he watched the child bound up the stairs, full of energy and excitement. It seemed like only yesterday that his own daughter, Belle, had been that same way. Turning back to his son, he grimaced at the young man's appearance. Brady's face was pale and dark circles had made what appeared to be a permanent home under his eyes. "Long flight?"

Brady shook his head in return. "Typical flight. Annie slept through most of it though. At least I didn't have to keep her entertained. Brady sank down onto the soft cushions of the couch. The problem was that with no one to distract him, he had been alone with his thoughts. There had been no way to banish them from playing over and over again, reminding him of the mistakes in his life.

"Did she even ask to see Annabelle before you left?" John asked suddenly, worried about the effect that his son's divorce would have on the young child. Annabelle was a personable child who adored both of her parents equally. His son's ex-wife was a fool to let that little girl out of her life for a second.

Brady laughed sarcastically, his face contorting with the pain of that event. "She called to say that she was busy with tour, but we all know what that really means. She and that new manager of hers are on some island off the coast of Italy last I heard, celebrating taking me for everything I've got."

"I'm sorry son. I know this is hard on you." John knew that his son had once loved Chloe Lane more than life itself, devoting himself to her happiness and well being. However, that Chloe was long gone, replaced by a selfish and greedy monster who expected Brady to roll over and ignore her lavish spending and infidelity. "I hate to ask this, but did you check…I mean with what was going on and Annabelle…I guess it is up for…"

"She's mine," Brady answered bitterly. "The only damn thing I got out that marriage was my daughter. Chloe may have lied about a great many things, but Annie is not one of them. That's why I was so damned determined to get her out of there. I want my daughter to have a normal life. Chloe can't provide that now." He turned his bleary vision toward the stairs, picturing the small child running up them. "At least Chloe can't turn her into some little doll that's only brought out for publicity. Annie deserves to be in a home with people who love her and care for her."

John patted his son's shoulder, smiling sadly at the man his son had been turned into. "She's lucky to have you for a dad, but let's face the facts. Being a single father is tough, especially when you're trying to get your career up and running again after following Chloe around for all these years. You're welcome to start back up at Basic Black, but I'll be honest with you. I'm barely involved with the business myself any more. Kate's taken over the daily operations for me, including the hiring and budgeting. I'd have to talk to her about it. I don't see a problem, but you never know with her."

"I was thinking about going back to Titan," Brady announced. "I know with Granddad gone that Nicole's been running things. It could be awkward, but I would like to get back to what I was doing there. I had some success." He felt his father stiffen at the mention of the rival business, knowing that John still thought of it as betrayal. Brady did not see it that way. He had been offered both jobs out of nepotism originally, but it was at Titan that he had proven himself. Nicole had to remember that, despite the bad feelings that she was sure to harbor.

"If it doesn't work out that way let me know," John said. "Or have you already talked to her?"

"Not yet," Brady answered. "I actually haven't spoken to her since the wedding." He jumped up from his spot on the couch, unwilling to discuss the subject any further. It was a sore subject in neutral times, but now it was especially raw. He considered it to be the biggest mistake that he had made.

The elevator ride up in Titan's building seemed to take hours as Brady fidgeted and played with his deep red tie. He had worn his best suit and practiced what he would say to her for hours in the mirror the night before. All he could hop is that it would come out right, not too needy or cocky. He had been surprised that she had agreed to meet with him so easily, expecting much more of a fight.

As the doors opened, he couldn't help but notice the new design of the main office with its clean lines and modern artwork on the walls. It was impressive and light at the same time, inviting him into what appeared to be a progressive and sharp company. His tight lips gave way to a quick smile at Marie, noting how she was still there after all that time. She smiled back at him. "I'm here for an appointment with Nicole," Brady said as he extended his hand. "I believe she said to check in with you."

Marie nodded and pressed her finger to the intercom. "Ms. Walker, your ten o'clock is here."

"Tell him that I'll be right out," Nicole's voice rang out through the tiny machine.

Brady's breath caught in his throat, hearing her that clearly after six years away. There last meeting had not been pleasant, but it appeared that she wanted to remain professional now. He appreciated that about her, hoping she would remain so after his request. Sitting on the small couch outside her office, he flipped through the latest issue Bella, noting the striking difference in the pages.

"Come on in," Nicole said, startling him. She stood there in her doorway, her hair swept up into a very professional style with tiny wisps of blonde hair escaping the tight knot. The pale green suit she wore hugged the curves of her body, accentuating her slender figure. Time had been a friend to her, softening the features of her face to a quiet and serene appearance.

"Thank you for meeting with me," he said as he passed her. His eyes closed momentarily at the whiff of her perfume that lingered on her clothes. The sultry scent was the same as she used to wear when they both lived in the Kiriakis mansion, strong and feminine at the same time. He had not forgotten that scent or the way that it seemed to float by him as she entered the room.

"You said you needed my assistance," Nicole said firmly as she sat back down behind her desk. With a confident hand motion, she signaled for him to take the seat in front of her. "I'm merely curious about what I could do to help you. It must be something big or you wouldn't be coming to me."

Brady took a deep breath, calming his already harried nerves. "I came to you about a job," he said, looking at her behind the desk that his grandfather had once occupied. She seemed at home there, a master technician and strategist rolled into one. There was an aura about her that was intimidating to him and he was sure that clients saw it too. "I have decided that I want to return to Salem."

"Tired of following the diva around?" Nicole said sarcastically. With a quick shake of her head, she resumed her cool demeanor. "I read in the paper that Chloe filed for a divorce, so I can't say that your return is a surprise. However, I would have assumed that you would have enough money that you did not need my assistance in finding a job."

Clearing his throat, he realized that Nicole did harbor the bitterness of their last conversation, as was only natural. Yet, she kept it close to her vest, not allowing him to see how deep or shallow the wound actually was. "My relationship with Chloe is over," Brady confirmed. "I have returned to Salem to start my life over again. I would appreciate the opportunity to resume my previous job here, but I understand if that is not possible. I was hoping that you and I could come to a mutual and professional understanding about the past."

Briefly her demeanor changed to a softer tone, but it was replaced quickly by an unreadable one. "You were always an asset to Titan," Nicole agreed. "The clients and staff all loved you and the way you handled yourself in the boardroom. I'm sure that you would be that way again." She placed her hand under her chin thoughtfully as she sat back in the leather chair.

"But?"

She laughed at his interruption. "I think you know that you and I are hardly friends anymore. We haven't spoken since your wedding and even that wasn't amicable. Chloe made it quite clear that you were to have nothing to do with me and you followed that obediently. I seem to recall that you didn't even attend your grandfather's funeral because you were too worried about running into me. Now you're on my doorstep begging for a job."

He knew that what she was saying was true, but that did not stop it from hurting. "I know that we left things unfavorably when Chloe and I got married. It was wrong of me to cut you out of my life like that. The only excuse that I can even give you is that I was trying to keep my marriage together. I can apologize now, but I doubt you'd accept that." He hoped that by being honest with her, she would find it within her heart to give him a chance.

"I don't have an opening in the music division," she said thoughtfully. "You'd have to work for Bella's advertising department."

"I'd prefer to be as far away from music as I can be," Brady admitted.

"The pay is not going to be what you were used to," she added. "Since your grandfather's death, I have tightened things up around here. No expensed lunches, no company cars, no excessive travel. It's important that I keep this ship afloat." Picking up the pen from her desk, she tapped its end on the table a few times. "If you can accept the terms of a standard contract, I can hire you back."

"I'll accept them," he said eagerly. "Thank you for doing this. I know you won't be sorry."

Nicole opened the file drawer to her left and dug through the folders there, pulling out a thin green one. "I'm not convinced of that," she said bitterly. "I'm doing this more for Victor than you. If he was still alive, you wouldn't have had to come begging for a job. I try to keep his vision in mind when I make decisions because for the bastard that he was, he was a genius in the corporate world. Besides he built this empire as a foundation for his descendents. Unfortunately, Bo, Shawn, and Phillip have no interest in it other than their quarterly profits. You are all that there is left."

"Thank you," Brady repeated, beginning to finally relax. He took a quick glance around the office as Nicole wrote a few things inside of the folder, calling her assistant in to type it up. "You haven't changed things in here much."

"I guess not," she said solemnly. "It was one of the few offices that I could actually appreciate in this building. Marie or one of the others will have the contract ready in a minute. Is there anything else I can get for you as you wait? I'm sure you remember your way around so a tour isn't necessary."

"I'm fine," Brady answered, his eyes glancing toward the framed photographs on the wall. Each picture showed Nicole at a different function, her smile and confidence exceeding the frames. "You certainly seem to have made this place a success."

Nicole sized up his comments with her eyes, trying to determine the reason for them. "I did what I had to do," she answered. "Your grandfather left me this place on top. I wasn't going to take the blame for letting it falter. You do what you have to do when relationships and lives end. I'm sure you're aware of that what with raising your daughter."

"You know about that?" he asked.

Hesitating for a moment, she pulled open her lap drawer and pulled out the slick glossy magazine. "Your divorce made the tabloids," she said with a wry smile. "Chloe is quoted in here as saying that she realized that she wanted to concentrate on her career rather than motherhood or marriage. Granted she's pictured snuggling up to her business manager, but who am I to judge a good mother or not." Nicole slapped the magazine down on the desk, letting him see the full color photo of his now ex-wife. "Your life with her made for some interesting news stories."

"And you of course read them?" Brady asked as he stared down at the mother of his daughter. "Glad to see my life going up in smoke."

Biting her lip, she looked away and toward the wall of pictures. "I was never Chloe's biggest fan, even before she came back to Salem. You and I both know that. She was never good enough for you, but you had it in your head that she was a damn saint. When she came to you crying that she was pregnant, you married her. You forgot everything and everyone that was important to you and left us all behind for her. It didn't matter to you that she was playing you from day one, including the day before your wedding. Nobody could have made you understood what kind of woman she really was because you saw her as perfect."

"I know better now," Brady answered her. "It wasn't like you…God, I can't do this now. I can't fight with you about what should have been or what could have happened. The facts are that Chloe did get pregnant. I married her and moved away. That part of my life is over now. I'm here with my daughter trying to make a fresh start of things. I never meant to hurt you back then, but I guess I did. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for so many things that happened back then, but most of all I'm sorry that I ever assumed we were mature enough to handle it now." He stood up and stalked over to the door.

"Brady, wait," Nicole said from her seat. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have come down on you like that. I know that divorces suck. It's no fun for either side, no matter what front she's putting up. You were trying to do the honorable thing by marrying her. I admire that about you. You always do the honorable thing. I hope that we can put all of this behind us. Can we start again?"

Brady took a deep breath, his shoulders tense from arguing with her. "I'd like that," he said softly. "I could use you as a friend again."

Annabelle was sleeping under the pink sheets and comforter of her new bed, exhausted from a day of playing with her grandfather at the park and seeing every Disney movie he could rent. Brady placed a soft kiss on her forehead as she slumbered, silently wishing her pleasant dreams. He was amazed by everything about her from her small hands and features to her intelligence and insight. This little person was a part of him, looking so much like him that it was scary. He pulled the covers up tight around her and glanced around the small room that John had had decorated for her. John took his role as grandfather seriously, having spoiled his only grandchild with everything she could desire. The room was decorated in a princess style, complete with a castle mural on one wall.

"Son?" John asked from the doorway, letting the light seep in. "Do you have a minute?"

Brady sighed and rose back to his feet, glancing one more time at his daughter. He passed into the hallway, barely grazing his father with his shoulder as he did. "If you're going to ask about a job, I spoke with Nicole," Brady said as he squared off his broad shoulders. "I'm starting on Monday at Titan in their advertising division."

John nodded absently, his eyes narrowing on his son. "You think that's a good idea. Working with Nicole? It's just that…" he trailed off, his voice weak.

"It's just that what?" Brady challenged.

"We all have our weaknesses, our vices if you will. Nicole seemed to be yours. She can control you with one bat of an eyelash. I remember how it was before. You were falling all over yourself to remain faithful to Chloe while she was gone. Then that whole scene…hell I don't have to remind you about that. The moment Chloe was out of your life you jumped into bed with Nicole. I may have given you grief over it, but it was in your best interest. You were mourning Chloe by giving in to temptation with a woman most men would be unable to resist. Had it been just a physical thing, I don't think I would have been half as worried. It wasn't though. You admitted as much at the time."

Brady hated to hear his father speak about this now. He would have rather kept it all inside, private and undisturbed. "You're asking if I loved her?"

"No," John denied quickly. "I know that you did. What I'm asking is if you still do?"

"Dad, I haven't seen her in six years. I walk back in there today and it's like nothing had changed. She is more beautiful than ever, if that's possible. It all came flooding back in one big lump, the time we spent together, her voice, the perfume she wears, the way she looks out of her clothes, the feel of her skin. Everything that I had tried to forget was right back in my mind after talking to her for two seconds."

"Then is this a good idea," John queried. "Can you stand to be working with a woman who has that much of an effect on you? Can you deal with seeing her every day?"

Brady took a deep breath, staring toward the closed door to his daughter's room. "I belong there at Titan," he insisted. "I screwed up my life the last time I was working there. I've got a chance to fix it now. I'm going to do just that."

"I should tell you then that Nicole's not the same woman as she was before," John said, leading his son downstairs. "She was strong and crafty before without many redeeming qualities that the average person could see. After you left, she changed. She's still strong, but she's got a confidence now that is remarkable. Basic Black won't bid on the same accounts as Titan anymore because of it. You can't beat her in the boardroom. While Victor was ill, she took over for him and brought that company to the top of the industry. She didn't take a bit of credit for it either, claiming that Victor had taught her. It wasn't his victory, son. Your grandfather had lost most of his faculties after that stroke. He couldn't remember his own name. She didn't let that stop her. She took control and hasn't looked back since."

"She's a remarkable woman," Brady commented.

"Yes," John admitted. "She is. I'll admit that I was one who had reservations about her, but I can't deny the talent and skill she possesses. Titan is in good hands over there. The only criticism I ever hear anymore is that she is a workaholic. While the others in her league are out wining and dining, spending their millions on luxury, she's working late nights to check everyone's work. Did you know that she went back to college and got her degree? She didn't tell a soul, just went and did it. Rumor is that she's working on an MBA now. I wouldn't put it past her."

The words sank in as he walked past his father to the bar in the corner and poured two glasses of the dark liquid. Passing one over to his father, he downed the other one quickly. It had become a nightly ritual for him to drink when Chloe was away, keeping himself from wondering where she was. "I appreciate the gossip dad, but why are you telling me all this?"

John cleared his throat. "You're not the only one who has made mistakes," he said carefully. "I'm the one who pushed you toward Chloe when she came back, never considering the consequences. We all knew that Chloe had lied to you about being dead, but she seemed so sincere and earnest about setting things right again. I should have realized how torn you were between the two of them. I shouldn't have pushed."

Pouring himself another, Brady nodded his head slowly. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who let myself believe her. I guess I just wanted it to be true."

"You were in the situation," John said. "It's hard to remain unbiased like that. You had Nicole over here telling you one thing and Chloe telling you another. How were you supposed to know? To add to it, all of us were telling you how horrible Nicole was for you. I'm sure that didn't help. Plus, I wasn't totally aware of what was going on with you. I was so determined to find Marlena and then losing her like that. The past few years have been like a yo-yo. At least I know she's gone now. Your step-mother's heart just gave out after all that she went through."

"I was an adult and I made my own decisions," Brady said as he gulped down the liquid. It burned his throat and made him scrunch his face in disgust. "I had the opportunity to make things right back then, but I didn't. Chloe got pregnant and we got married. I don't regret that. Annabelle deserved two parents who tried to make a go of it. We did that."

"She's a lucky little girl," John agreed. "I'm asking you to do me a favor. Be careful about whatever you do. You know I'm going to support your decisions, but you have Annabelle to think about. She doesn't need you getting hurt again."

Nicole paced back and forth along the floor of her bedroom, her stomach in knots from earlier. She had known that he was coming back to his father's home for shelter after Chloe took everything in the settlement. That much was easy to predict, but coming to her for a job was a surprise. She had assumed that he would have avoided her or been unwilling to work with her again.

Looking over at the empty bed, she sighed. She needed her rest, but sleep was an elusive creature that night. Every time she closed her eyes she could see him, hear him, and feel him. Just a few seconds alone with him had made her every nerve stand on end. Nobody had ever had that effect on her the way he did. Maybe that was why she didn't date anymore. None of the potential suitors matched up to what he could do to her with one look or caress.

"You're losing it," she muttered to herself as she went back to the bed. She had gotten used to sleeping alone after he had left, but tonight it felt especially painful. There was something incredibly soothing about his arms around her as she drifted off to sleep, protecting her from everything that might hurt her. She missed that. She missed the way he would whisper to her in her ear as she sank into the void of slumber. Her heart still ached for the tender way he made love to her late into the night, making her surrender every bit of herself over to a total and complete ecstasy she had never known. Love like that only came once in a lifetime. Her chance was over.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the great feedback. I decided to go ahead and upload the second chapter this weekend. I think this one will explain a few things a little better. Hope you enjoy!_

_ Becky_

**Chapter 2 **

"I don't care how late your show is," Brady barked into the phone. He was trying to keep his voice down so that Annabelle would not hear the argument. She was watching a movie with John, but her little ears perked up when he had called Chloe by name. "I told you I don't care. She's your daughter too and it's her birthday. The least you can do is give her a happy birthday call her on that day." He banged his head against the door frame, frustration tightening his already tense muscles. "Damn it, Chloe. Can't you see what you're doing to her? She adores you. God knows why! All I'm asking for is a little bit of help here. Don't make her go through life wondering why her mother abandoned her."

John sighed one of those uncomfortable moment sighs, smiling down at his granddaughter. "What do you say we go check the mail? Maybe you got a postcard." he asked with a quick glance over his shoulder. He knew that his son was going through hell, but putting his daughter in the middle of it did not help."

"What do you mean by that? Yes, I am working for Titan, but one thing has nothing to do with the other. You know good and well that I have had no contact with her for the past six years. I did that for you and our marriage. Fat lot of good it did me." He groaned loudly in annoyance at having this same fight with his ex-wife again. It seemed to play over and over. Half of their divorce proceedings centered around Chloe tearfully telling the judge how she had come back from countless surgeries to find Brady and Nicole in bed together. He smiled apologetically but gratefully at his father as the older man took Annabelle downstairs to distract her.

Brady ran his hand through his messy hair and sighed. It was ironic that Chloe would still feel threatened by Nicole when it was Chloe who had cheated on him. She had always angrily claimed that there were three in their marriage…Brady, Chloe, and Nicole. It seemed silly now. "It's not your business if I'm sleeping with her or not," he reminded her. "We're divorced now. Remember? That was your idea. I can sleep with whomever I damn well please. Don't give me this crap about her. She had nothing to do with our divorce."

Listening to his ex-wife rant, Brady sank down onto the floor and wondered where he had gone wrong. He knew the exact moment, the exact hour that it had all fallen apart. Chloe had come back to him on a Thursday, bursting her way into a room that he had shared with Nicole for months. The candles he had lit for their private celebration were burnt down to tiny nubs and the champagne had long since been drunk through toasts to the future. He had been holding Nicole in his arms, relishing the moments of languid tranquility after having made love again. Before the diva had burst through the door, he had known the perfection that could only be described as heaven.

The next few days had been a blur, his heart tearing in two as he listened to others tell him how lucky he was to have Chloe back. He didn't feel lucky, quite the opposite really. Instead, he felt numb to her sobbing apologies and excuses. He found himself turning more and more to Nicole, knowing that was where he belonged. But then there was that one moment. A phone call from a distraught Chloe had sent him running to her side, worried that she would do something stupid to end her own life. Fate took an ugly turn that night.

Five weeks later, a triumphant Chloe burst into the Titan conference room to announce that she was pregnant with Brady's child. Feeling that he had no other choice, Brady had done the honorable thing and married this opera singer, turning his back on Nicole. Chloe never appreciated what Brady did, constantly reminding him that he had not waited a day before jumping into bed with another woman. He tried to shrug those comments off, but they hurt. She would never understand how it was Nicole who had saved him from self-destruction. It was Nicole who had made life worth living.

Marriage with Chloe had been a charade, a farce of what a real marriage should have been. He was there to be a father, trying desperately to give his daughter what he had never had. His daughter deserved a mother and a father. His mother's death had cheated him of that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nicole looked through the rack of dresses, casually moving them aside in her effort to find something else. Usually her Saturday morning shopping trips were more enjoyable than this, as she never could quite get that feeling of being poor out of her system. She had the money she had longed for now, more than enough to buy everything in Salem Place without ever putting a dent in her accounts. Surprisingly to her, the money had not brought the security or happiness she was seeking. It only served to distract her momentarily from the lonelier moments of her life.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" the young sales clerk asked distractedly from her stool behind the register. It was the line she was supposed to say, proper etiquette for the store. Nicole knew she didn't mean it. She was too busy staring dreamily out the window at the people passing by, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone she knew.

"Just browsing," Nicole answered as she moved to the next rack. Truly, she wasn't looking for anything in particular. Her matching walk in closets contained more gowns and outfits than she could wear in ten years. The price tags still hung from half of them. It was something to do. Everyone else enjoyed the weekends, counting down the days until they would once again be free from the constraints of work and other obligations. Nicole had no such desire. The only time she felt useful and needed was when she was behind her desk at work, making money for herself and others.

"Let me know," the girl drawled lazily. She snapped her gum to the beat of the piped in music, lazily leaning back against the wall.

Looking up from the rack, Nicole saw him passing by the window. He stopped just before he left her view to kneel down and tie his daughter's shoelace. With a quiet sigh, Nicole watched him in a way she had never seen before. There was something different about him since his return to Salem. It wasn't a sadness or melancholy that she was seeing. She had seen those on him before. Instead, it was a seriousness and maturity that he had been missing before. She supposed that being a father did that for him. It made him grow up and take stock of his life. Glancing away from him, she looked at the little girl, amazed at how much she looked like her father. It was a good thing that she did, as she served as enough of a reminder just being Chloe's child. At least Brady did not have to take care of a miniaturized version of the diva every day.

She had known that Brady would make an excellent father even back when he was in his mid-twenties. There was something about him that made people feel safe and comforted just by a few words out of his mouth. He had that effect on her, putting her at ease in even the toughest of times. It was different now. Just the sight of him made her stomach clench in knots and her mouth go dry with anticipation. It was the way that some people described girlish crushes, but to her it was an agonizing feeling that she dreaded.

"You might convince more people that you were over that part of your life if you didn't stare at him with your mouth wide open," her mother said from beside her. Faye was cradling a stack of clothing, her arms heavy with the garments. "You could go and say hello to him."

Nicole shook off the cloud around her, turning back to focus on her mother. "I was just surprised to see him out today," she explained unconvincingly. "Plus I've never seen his daughter this close before. I was curious."

Looking over her daughter's shoulder, the older woman smiled and nodded her head knowingly. "He does have a beautiful little girl," she answered. "It's a shame about her mother though. I can't imagine not wanting my child."

"I can't either," Nicole answered offhandedly as she grabbed for the garments her mother was holding. "I'm glad someone found something."

"I appreciate this Nicky," Faye said with a simple amount of emotion flowing out. "I've got to find something else and all my clothes scream waitress." Her hand flew out to stroke the soft material of the unadorned black suit. "These will make the difference."

"You know that if you want a job with Titan I could find something for you," Nicole answered. "We've always got openings for someone in the secretarial pool or even in sales." Her voice was tense as she spoke to her mother. It was hard for her still to try to be civil to the woman who had witnessed some of the most horrific moments in her daughter's life. Try as she might, forgiveness was not an easy thing for Nicole to manage. She was trying though.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Faye responded. "What kind of secretary would I make? I can barely even type." The self disparaging was just the latest in a long line of comments she had made about herself recently. Since the diner she had worked at all these years was closing, she had tried to convince herself that she could find a better life out there. However, her lack of education and skills made the job search difficult.

"How many times have I told you to go back to school?" Nicole asked as she whipped out her charge card to pay for the items. Shooting the clerk an annoyed look, she silently willed her to hurry up. "You could take a few courses on computers, accounting, whatever you wanted. It would make you happier and more marketable in the work force. I'd pay for it. What's stopping you?"

"I'm way too old to think about going back to school," Faye answered. "Somebody will hire me as a receptionist or something. I can answer phones and direct people. If not, I'll go back to looking for waitress jobs. There's the Brady Pub for instance. I could work there."

Nicole let out a garbled and frustrated noise as she signed the receipt for the purchase. "I don't understand why you won't take my help. I'm running a multimillion dollar corporation here. I think I can afford to show a little nepotism and get you a job. Damn it, mother. You worked your ass off all your life to provide for your three kids and no good husband. You can't tell me that you wouldn't like to relax a little now with a cushy job and a great salary."

"I don't want special treatment," Faye countered. "If I go to work for you, I want to be treated like everyone else. I couldn't stand to have people talking behind my back about how my daughter is the only reason I'm there." She grabbed the bags carefully, making her way to the glass doors.

"Trust me mother," Nicole said with a laugh. "I'm a bitch to work for. Just ask your new co-workers."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Brady took a quick glance around his cubicle, chuckling under his breath at his current predicament. He had once been in the office next to Nicole, his desk alone bigger than this tiny area he now occupied. At one point, he'd had a full view of the city of Salem spread out beneath him. Now, if he craned his head back far enough, he could see the building next door. It wasn't much, but it was a chance to start again. He had to be grateful for that. Never the one to complain, he kept a pleasant attitude about his work. He didn't even moan about the ancient computer at his desk that took a good ten minutes to open a simple application.

"First week on the job and you keep coming back," the man in the cubicle next to him said with a laugh. "We go through them down here. Most don't last a month before they're running back to wherever they came from. Ms. Walker makes us meet our quotas or we're out the door. She doesn't like excuses."

"She never has," Brady muttered quietly. "I'm Brady by the way."

"I know," the man said, extending his hand out. "Jim. I figured you wouldn't remember me. I came on board right after you did. I was the first person you hired with the help of your grandfather."

Brady felt embarrassed that he did not remember the smiling man. He had hired and fired quite a few people back in the day, never really paying attention to anything more than his own ambitions. Suddenly, the smiling face came back to him. "I do remember now," he said with a small laugh. "You're still here."

"That I am," the man admitted dryly. "I was surprised that you came back. After everything that went down with you and Ms. Walker, it took some balls to come back and ask for a job." He suddenly realized what he'd said. "I didn't mean…"

Brady laughed. "Don't worry about it. I realize that it is a bit of an awkward situation here. If I remember correctly, you were the one who walked in on…"

Jim blushed at the memory that Brady was sharing. "Yes, sir. That was me. I had just landed my first major account and had to share it with someone. The office was practically empty so I went running up the stairs. I was too pumped to even take the elevator. I was just going to leave the file on Ms. Walker's desk, thinking she'd see it first thing that morning. I guess I didn't hear you guys or I would have never walked in."

The memory was clear to Brady, a moment that at the time he would have died to have forgotten. Now it was a bittersweet memory of what he had lost in his life. He had never fully appreciated the spontaneous nature to his former relationship with Nicole. It was something that others strived for in their own lives. They shared something unique with each other. "If I recall, you couldn't have seen very much. You ran out quicker than anyone I've ever seen."

"I couldn't believe I walked in," the man lamented. "Hell, the rumors were already flying by that time. Actually, they had been for months. People loved talking about the owner's widow and grandson having some little affair. If I remember right, the rumors started about the same time you moved in with your grandfather and Ms. Walker." Jim rose from his seat and grabbed for the coffee pot, pouring himself another glass. "We always wondered…"

Brady knew that the rumors had been there, spurred on by the compromising positions that he and Nicole seemed to find themselves in. Matters were not helped when the article Victor's supposed accidental electrocution had detailed the fact that Brady and Nicole had been found handcuffed together. That had done little to squelch the rumors that had been circulating. "Don't believe everything you hear," Brady answered with a smile. "Now, I do have a question for you. I need to copy some of these contracts before I send them up to legal. Can you point me toward a copier?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John laughed as his granddaughter placed the yellowed veil on her head, standing there solemnly like a bride about to walk down the aisle. "Do I look pretty Grandpa?" she asked.

"Beautiful, Annie," he said sincerely. With a quick glance around, he noted that they had gone through almost every box in that attic, pouring over old photographs and other memories. His granddaughter was fascinated to hear stories of her father's childhood, giggling over the faded photographs. "You'll make a beautiful bride someday."

Tilting her head to one side, she studied herself in the mirror. "Momma's going to marry him isn't she?" the little girl timidly asked.

"Who?"

"Rafael," the child said carefully. "Daddy doesn't like him, but Momma does." She pulled the veil down off of her head, making the golden curls she sported tumble. "Momma's with him right now and that's why Daddy's mad."

"How do you know that?" John asked in alarm.

"Cause Momma doesn't call when she's with him," the child explained. "When we lived at our other house it happened a lot. Daddy would take care of me and he would say that Momma was on tour, but she wasn't. I know cause she calls when she's on tour. When she's with Rafael she can't be bothered. That's what she told Daddy when he yelled at her about it. She told Daddy that he was a fine one to talk cause of some picture he kept in his drawer. Do you know what picture?"

"Your mother is very busy with her career right now," John said patiently. "You know that she loves you very much and misses you. I'll bet she's going to be so happy to see you this Christmas that she'll spoil you rotten."

Annabelle reached into the trunk and pulled out another picture. The dusty frame was cracked and it had not seen the light in years. "Daddy," she whispered. "That's my dad." Holding up the photograph proudly, she ran over and dumped it in John's lap.

He smiled at the young picture of his son, seeing only glimpses of the man he would grow to be. "That's your father. Not long before…That's your father."

Annabelle smiled proudly, staring at the handsome face smiling back at her. "Who's that with him?" she asked. Her finger ran through the dust, uncovering old faces of the past that most had forgotten.

"Well," John said slowly. "That right there is your Aunt Belle and her husband Phillip just after their wedding. And that lady there is my friend Kate." He couldn't believe how happy they all looked in that photograph, each of them smiling brightly and happily. There was no trace of the sadness that would befall them.

"And who's she?" Annabelle asked pointing at the woman beside her father.

"That's Nicole," John answered. It had been years since he had seen that picture, but time had done little to erase the wounds it created. Yet, he had never noticed his son's expression in the picture. While everyone else had been standing straight and facing the camera with their ready smiles on their faces, Brady's eyes were fixed on Nicole. He had never seen such a look from his son before, a mixture of pride, love, and happiness in even his accidental glance.

Annabelle took the picture back, holding it up above her head and staring at it in wonder. "She's pretty."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking down the narrow hallway, Brady realized again just what a sheltered life he had led before. This was probably only the third time in his life that he had even been on this floor. Before he'd had secretaries, assistants, and even junior executives at his service, begging to do such menial tasks for him. Now they all looked at him with a certain degree of disdain, pity, and morbid curiosity. He had heard the jokes and sarcastic comments about his career, calling him nothing more than a toy for Nicole to play with when she wasn't too busy running the company. It was hard to deny they didn't hurt, but he wasn't deterred.

Walking through the doors to the copy room, he smiled at the familiar face behind the desk. At least this was one woman who would not be judging him for coming back here. "Faye," he greeted her with a certain restraint.

She smiled back and stood from her seat, looking a bit out of place in the setting. The clothes she wore fit her perfectly, altered by Nicole's private tailor. But they looked out of place on her thin form. Her hair was swept back in what appeared to have been a simple twist, but hours of harried request had let many of the strands escape and frizz around her. "Brady," she said a little too excitedly. "It's so good to see you."

"I'd heard that you were working here now, but I hadn't had the time to look you up." He glanced around the small office area, breathing in the strong odor of toner and ink in the air. The cold linoleum floor and stark white walls were institutional, not warm and friendly at all. Didn't Nicole's mother rank more than this? "I was looking for a copier?"

"Just place them here in this box. I'll try to get to them this afternoon," she promised distractedly. "The copy guy will be back by noon. He's supposed to teach me then. That machine back there is a monster. I always just thought you placed the original face down and hit copy. Not with that thing."

Brady looked at the overflowing stack of work that was piling up on her desk, realizing how over her head she was. "I need to get these to legal before then," he said contemplatively. "What do you say about me and you going and looking at that machine? I bet between the two of us, we'll get it running in no time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nicole stared down at the spreadsheet, her eyes scanning the numbers that added together to detail the profits of the advertising department. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Brady Black's name on the report. It was customary that newly recruited sales staff were expected to only perform at half the level of the other staff. It was a learning curve, the only break that she would give them. After that, she expected them to perform at full strength, providing the company's publishing interests with enough capitol to keep going for years to come. She accepted no excuses, reasons, or sob stories for under performing.

From the looks of the chart, Brady had none to offer. He had surpassed even the most stellar members of sales force, including bringing in a client that she had been working on for the past six months. She was amazed. Then again, she thought wryly, this was Brady Black. He had been a spectacular salesman even in his early years with the company. There was no doubt that he would be again.

The intercom buzzed to bring her out of her thoughts. "Ms. Walker?"

"Yes, Marie," she muttered as she shoved the documents back in their folder. "Yes?"

"Alex Dombrondy just called in sick," she said hesitantly. "He said he's got the flu. You've got that strategy session with Isah Cosmetics in fifteen minutes. Do you want me to call them and reschedule? They're expecting a pitch today about where they should spend their advertising dollars."

Nicole groaned, cradling her forehead in her hands. "Damn it," she cursed silently. "Call downstairs and get me whoever is there now. I know it's early, but I need a warm body. I don't care who it is."


	3. Chapter 3

Never in all the time he had known her had he seen Nicole afraid of anything in the board room. She was fearless and poised, an asset to have on your team in negotiations. That had not changed, though the meeting dragged out for over two hours. The smell of stale coffee mixed with the fumes from the spray mount he had used on the artwork samples. Rough drafts of previous contracts and proposals littered the floor. To them, she was the picture of calm determination. But he could tell that the long meeting was getting to her by the way her jaw was tight and her hands were splayed across the glass topped table. Nervously, she slid her feet out of her shoes, curling her toes in the tan carpet. Her eyes though were the picture of calmness, clearly focused on the three men in front of her. She dissected and evaluated their every sigh, grunt, or whispered comment of the contract draft. Her own feelings were hidden beneath a veneer of self-confidence.

Brady had long sense lost his jacket and his tie hung loosely from his neck. He had pushed the sleeves up on his shirt to reveal his muscular forearms and the watch his father had given him for his last birthday. His jaw twitched as the three men spoke lowly and marked certain passages, their faces unreadable. He knew that even Nicole was avoiding his glances, her anger that he was sent to help evident when she spotted him setting up the easels. She was desperate enough that she did not make a scene, but that hardly helped his confidence at his new job. He was accepted because there was no one else.

"These don't show your projected growth of impressions," the younger man said with a thick foreign accent. It had become obvious that he was the spokesperson for the group. While they all obviously understood English, he was the only one to speak it.

"I can get that for you," Nicole said through her tight mouth. Briefly, her nostrils flared in annoyance as she stood up and poked her head out the door. The office was bustling now, the regular nine to fivers having finally arrived. She grabbed the first person she saw, whispering furiously to the new intern who happened to be walking by.

Brady smiled a tight-lipped smile at the three men, who eyed him carefully. They seemed to be sizing him up, wondering why he had let Nicole take the lead in this gathering. The truth was that Nicole often took the lead in the past, using her skill and charm to get any contract that came her way. He worked better in the background, memorizing numbers and details that were important as ammunition. They had been a great team.

"It is good to see you again, Mr. Black," the young man said haltingly. "We have not had the pleasure of your company the last few times here."

"It is good to see you as well," Brady said, brushing aside the innuendo. "It's wonderful to be back." Smiling, he nodded to each of the men before getting up. His nervous hands needed something to do. Quickly, he made his way to the coffee pot to make a fresh pot, feeling momentarily like an over worked secretary.

"I apologize for the delay," Nicole said as she placed warm copies of the requested materials on the table. "These are the numbers you asked for."

Brady slid into his seat again, nodding as he read over the numbers himself. He was not an expert on public relations, but he knew that he could wing it if need be. Quickly, he scanned the document for the pertinent vocabulary and stored it in his head. "I think that Titan is offering a tremendous savings and valuable contract here, gentlemen. You are getting advertising, direct marketing, and public relations services from us for the price of just advertising. It will do wonders for your image and brand awareness here in the US."

"The US consumer is fickle," the young man said warily. "What about redesign work and the like?"

Nicole muted a frustrated sigh as she stared at the men. "We have no reason to believe or anticipate the need for redesign," she told them. "In fact, I would say that the campaign we have proposed gives you leverage for the next three years."

Brady could tell that they did not believe what she was saying, their blank expressions growing skeptical. "Actually," Brady said cautiously, throwing a pleading look at Nicole. "I think that the gentlemen have a valid point. The last thing we want is our name and image attached to a stale campaign. While there is no possible way to detect the amount of time or materials used in redesigning or reformatting a campaign of this magnitude, I would suggest that we set an hourly rate for this work. That way there are no surprises should the need arise."

The men looked at each other and nodded slowly, smiles beginning to twitch at the corners of their mouths. "I can appreciate that," the younger man said slowly. "However, we would demand a cap for the overall price schedule."

"Of course," Nicole said, shooting Brady a look of surprise. "I can have that added to the contract as well." Finally, she sank back against the leather of the swiveling chair, her features relaxing for the first time.

Brady bent down to toss the stack of discarded papers, the room finally empty and the stale smell of coffee and half eaten sandwiches removed. He was proud of the way he had saved the deal, but he wondered what Nicole was thinking. She had rushed out of the room so quickly that he did not have time to gauge her reactions, something he used to be good at doing. She had left almost as quickly as the three men, flinging open the door and running toward her office. It was obvious to him that she was in no mood o be thankful or gracious for his quick thinking. He had not expected her to be.

"You should have called me," Marie said as she wheeled in a cart for the audio visual equipment they had used. "I would have cleaned up."

"No need," Brady said as he placed the last copy in the recycling bin. "I did it."

Marie looked at him thoughtfully as she yanked cords and wires out of the projector's case. "It's hard to get used to you working in sales," she told him. "I always think of you being up here behind…I'm sorry." She blushed furiously as she turned her attention to the laptop computer.

"No, it's quite okay," Brady told her softly. "I realize that anyone in my position would make the staff feel uncomfortable."

"It's not that," Marie stated cautiously. "It's just that sometimes we all forget. I actually got you a cup of coffee the other morning. Ms. Walker spotted me and about chewed my head off for it. Things were a lot easier when you were here. You could keep her in line." The loyal secretary blushed to be heard speaking poorly of the management, her eyes dropping back to her work.

"Nicole is a good CEO," Brady said consolingly. "She's a hard worker."

"That she is," Marie said nodding emphatically. "I just wish that she didn't expect her whole staff to work as hard. I'm not complaining." The older woman flipped her mousy brown hair over her shoulder. "Please don't think that I was…"

"It's just between us," Brady said with a smile.

-

Brady grabbed his jacket from the coat rack in the corner of the room and threw it over his shoulder. It had been a long day with the sun already beginning to set and color the sky with amazing reds and oranges along the horizon. He groaned as he glanced at his watch. Annabelle had been home for hours, the excitement of her school play tryout surely having waned by now. He had wanted to hear her squeal of glee over success or comforted her disappointment.

Car keys in hand, he headed toward the parking garage, noting the absence of cars from its dark depths. Everyone else had already called it a day, returning home to families and pets for an uneventful evening of non-work activities. He on the other hand was carrying a briefcase full of proposals that he wanted to proofread before sending them out in the morning.

Stomping up the last step toward level his car was on, he was surprised to hear the muttered conversation of some one else. Actually, he shouldn't have been surprised, as there were others that gunned for promotions and raises like it was an Olympic sport. Contorting his tired face into a smile, he got ready for a friendly good evening with a fellow co-worker. However, his smile fell as he saw her standing there.

Her hair was still twisted up tightly away from her face and her high heeled shoes still sheathed what had to be tired feet. Her stance was one of pure frustration with her hand on her hip and her cell phone to her ear as she paced back and forth. She noticed him and nodded her head in his direction.

He stood there helplessly for a moment, trying to find the strength to decide what to do. Slowly, he approached her with a tentative smile on his face. "Is everything okay?" he asked as she flipped her phone shut.

"My car," she groaned, slamming her hand down on the red hood. "I took it in for service last week because it had a funny sound when I was cranking it. They of course assumed that I didn't know anything as a woman. Now the damn thing won't crank at all."

"And they're gone for the day?" he asked.

"Of course," she said throwing her hands up in the air. "I can't believe this. Henderson and his staff are all out for their monthly bowling game. My mom has her weekly poker game. I can't even get a cab."

Nodding his head, he pointed to his own car just a few spaces down from hers. "Hop in," he told her. "I'll get you home."

She looked between her own useless car and his, obviously debating the consequences. Closing her eyes, she scooped up her purse and bag, rushing to catch up with his quick steps. "Thank you," she muttered as she slid into the front seat.

He had to stifle a laugh as he pulled out onto the road, noting that she was sitting as far against the passenger door as she could, pulling at her short skirt to hide her long legs from sight. She nervously chewed on her bottom lip, looking very young and childlike as she blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. Her nerves even made her flinch as he reached over and turned on the car stereo. "Same place I assume."

She was staring out the window, her eyes scanning the lush green landscape. "I didn't thank you for earlier," she finally said in a low voice. "You saved the day."

His shoulders rose and fell as he steered the car along the winding road toward the lake. "I just didn't want to see you lose that deal because of something that minor." Carefully, he watched her expression change as she settled back against the seat of the car.

"You were good in there," she said. "I forget how good you are at business. It's almost like you're channeling both your father and your grandfather. It's amazing."

"I don't know about that."

"I was pretty harsh when you came looking for a job," she said, her hand going up to play with a necklace around her neck. "I should have given you back your old job, but…'

"I didn't deserve it," he protested. "When I left, you told me that it would ruin my career. I'm just lucky that you didn't turn me into your janitor or something."

She laughed, the first time he had heard that in a long while. "I'm not that bad," she teased. "I just was worried about working with you again. I can't help that."

"I know," Brady said as he pulled into the long drive way. "I appreciate being given a job at all."


	4. Chapter 4

Annabelle scampered down the stairs, her curls flying wildly behind her as she searched for any place to hide from sight. It was her favorite game to play and she made her grandfather play it often. Her stocking feet silently slapped against the cold floorboards, making no sound as she hid behind the giant vase in the foyer. Her face was flushed with excitement, enjoying the freedom that she was allowed in her new home. Chloe had never allowed her to play inside, fearing for the priceless pieces of art that decorated the home. The young diva always claimed to have a headache that prevented her from playing with her daughter.

John's shoes made a heavy thud on the floor as he peered behind curtains and opened closet doors in his search. The older man hid a smile that threatened to spread his lips as he pretended that he could not find her. Her muffled giggles had given away her location long ago, but he played along to make her think that she was good at the game. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed the games of youth in his own home, as his work and responsibilities had kept him away from Brady and Belle. It was perfect with Annabelle, knowing that she was his to enjoy rather than parent.

"I'm going to find you," he said ominously, eliciting a fresh round of giggles. Quickening his pace, he rushed around the corner and knelt down beside the ornate Chinese vase. "Got you."

Annabelle squealed as she launched herself into her grandfather's arms, kissing his cheek affectionately. "Again?"

John smiled good naturedly, his eyes sparkling as he watched her smile up at him. "Maybe later," he said. "You've worn me and your dad out today. What do you say we go check on that soup we put on earlier? Lunch maybe?" He turned to the living room, laughing at the sight of his son. Brady had long since given up the battle and fallen into a deep sleep on the couch. His mismatched socks and faded jeans stood out against the cream colored material of the sofa.

Opening her mouth to speak, her words were overpowered by the sound of the door bell ringing. She wriggled her way out of his arms and ran for the door.

"See who it is first," John said as he pulled himself up from the floor. Before he could even make it, he could hear his granddaughter asking a stranger about her identity. Making his way to the door, he stopped short upon recognizing the woman standing there. She looked more mature than the last time he had seen her, but the soft way her hair framed her face and way she carried herself were the same. "Nicole."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Black," she said softly as she smiled down at the child. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I left something in Brady's car. I was hoping that I could get it."

"Daddy's asleep," the child told her. "When were you in my daddy's car?"

John placed his hand on his granddaughter's shoulder, silently praying that the child would not say too much. "I'll get the keys for you. Would you like to come in and wait?"

Nicole looked hesitant, but the older man had left her no choice but to enter the penthouse. Eyeing the young girl warily, Nicole stepped inside and smiled. "You must be Annabelle," she said softly. "You look like your father."

"I am just like him," she answered. "Granddad says that I act like him and am just as stubborn." Angling her head to the side, she looked thoughtful. "What's stubborn?"

Nicole bit back a laugh as she began to relax a little. She should have known that Brady's daughter would have that same charm and charisma that settled her. "Well, it means that you like to do things your way. You probably don't like people to tell you what to do."

"I like to be in charge," the little imp of girl admitted. Curious, she picked up the woman's hand. "You have pretty nail polish. I like pink."

"Me too," Nicole said, sliding her foot out of her heels. "See. I even use it on my toes." She wiggled her toes for the child to see.

"Oooohhhh, pretty. I want some polish just like that." Annabelle let her eyes roam across the woman's long legs and softly colored skirt. "You're real pretty."

"Thank you," Nicole told her sincerely. "You're just beautiful." Wistfully, she regarded the child's curls and rosy cheeks. This was exactly the child she had imagined as Brady's own. It made her stomach clench to think that Chloe had essentially abandoned the young girl. It seemed unfair that the diva could turn her back like that when women like Nicole would have killed to have become mothers.

"No," Annabelle said sadly, staring back at the couch where her father slept. "Mommy's beautiful. I look more like my daddy." There was a tangible sadness about the way the child lamented her mother's beauty.

Bending down to the child's level, Nicole brushed aside the curls on her head. "No," she stated firmly. "You are beautiful. Your daddy is very lucky to have a little girl like you in his life."

"Yes, I am," Brady said from the doorway. His blonde hair stood on end and his clothes were wrinkled from the impromptu nap he had been taking. "You're here about the file?" Reaching over toward the small table against the wall, he fished it out from under the stack of newspapers. "Here."

Nicole gratefully accepted the papers, running her hands across them softly. "I went to do some work this weekend and couldn't find them. You can imagine my panic." Her usually forceful tone had turned quiet and shaky with him staring at her. His grogginess made his eyes seemed even sharper and more focused than before.

"No problem," he told her with his eyebrow raised. "I see you met Annie."

Nicole smiled at the child and then back to Brady. "Yes, I did. She's the spitting image of you and I would assume just as much trouble too." Winking at Annabelle, she shared a quick giggle.

"I don't know about that," Brady laughed. "I was never as much trouble as she is. I ate my vegetables, cleaned my room…"

"Oh, I'm sure you were a saint," Nicole said, shooting him a threatening look. She knew too well about all the sides to Brady.

"We were about to have a little soup and some sandwiches for lunch. You are welcome to join us." He looked a bit hesitant, unsure why he'd just let those words fall from his mouth. Nicole was the type of woman who liked caviar and champagne, not tomato soup and grilled cheese.

"Oh please?" Annabelle begged, wrapping her own fingers around Nicole's hand in an attempt to drag her into the other room. "You could paint my nails?"

Letting out a shaky laugh, Nicole let herself be led into the dining room, smiling ruefully at a perplexed John. He was obviously startled to see that she was still there. Quickly, he covered, throwing down an extra plate and bowl. "Glad to see we have company."

"Isn't she pretty, Grandpa John," Annabelle said as she ran after her grandfather. "She's got pretty toes and fingers."

Brady laughed nervously, pulling out Nicole's chair for her. Just the simple brush of his fingers on her shoulders made him almost jump from the jolt of electricity. "She has this thing about nails right now," he told her apologetically. "I think it has to do with not having a woman around the house."

"It's quite alright," Nicole assured him, taking a sip from the soda that John had poured. "She's an adorable child."

"She's my life," Brady admitted as he stared at the closed door to the kitchen. "After everything that has gone wrong, Chloe, the tabloids, everything, she's the one thing that's real. I'm very lucky. I just sometimes wish…" His words lost their punch as he realized that he had almost said too much.

"What do you wish?" Nicole asked softly.

Brady quickly shook his head, dislodging the thoughts in his head. He knew that Nicole did not want to hear how he wished his life had turned out. No good would come from telling her about the ring that he had carried around for the entire month before Chloe had come back or his plans to marry her. She would not react well to his dark thoughts that he wished it had been her that was the mother of his child, not Chloe. There was no way that it would help at all. "I just wish that Annie was lucky enough to have a mother who loved her."

Nicole nodded thoughtfully, staring at the closed door as if it would open any second. "Maybe someday she will," she said suddenly. "You could meet someone and get married again. You're still young." She immediately felt the acid in her stomach churn at the mere thought of him getting married again.

"I don't know about that," Brady said in a whisper as his father and daughter reentered the room. "I think I'm pretty unlucky in love. Maybe I should just face facts and remain single."

XXXXX

Brady cracked the door a bit to peak in at his daughter, expecting to find her fast asleep in the middle of the pink room that John had specifically ordered for his only grandchild. He was surprised to find her sitting up in the bed, a book spread across her lap. Her freshly painted fingernail pointed to each word that she was trying fervently to sound out. "Hey Annie," he said affectionately as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I thought I told you lights out."

She looked at him pleadingly, her blue eyes as big as saucers. "Just five more minutes, daddy. Please." Looking remarkably like Belle, she was impossible to resist.

Brady pulled the book from her hands, smiling as he recognized the familiar pictures and words of one of his favorite fairy tales. "Why don't I read it to you?" he asked, remembering the number of times that he and Belle had read the very same book. It was his little sister's favorite too, filled with enough adventure for him and enough romance for her. "I used to read it to my sister all the time It was her favorite during any thunder storm."

Annabelle agreed readily, snuggling up in her father's lap for the story. She stayed wide eyed and enthralled through the whole thing, asking questions and begging him to read sections again. Finally, she settled back down and listened to the famous line that ends all fairy tales.

"And they lived happily ever after," Brady said as he snapped the book shut. "Are you ready for lights out now?"

She looked to ponder the thought for a moment, dreading the answer she was expected to give. "Daddy? Are you ever going to find me a new mommy?"

Brady felt the jolted realization of surprise, his face blanching at the question. "I thought we were doing fine here, just me, you, and grandpa John?" He immediately cursed Chloe in his head, hating that his daughter was longing for a mother as flippant about her responsibilities as his former wife.

"We are," the child assured him. "I just thought that you'd be happier with a wife. Maybe Miss Nicole would marry you?"

Brady recognized the familiar twinkle in his daughter's eyes, having seen Belle give him those same looks whenever she wanted anything. "Why do you think that I should marry Nicole?" Brady asked as he tucked her in.

"Daddy?" she said in an exasperated tone. "She's beautiful and fun and smart and wears pretty nail polish." Wiggling her fingers back at her father, she showed him the manicure that Nicole had given her. "See?"

"All of those things are important," Brady agreed. "But there are other things too. If…and I mean if…I ever get married again it has to be to a woman who loves both of us. She'd have to be a very special woman to be a part of our lives." Inside, he couldn't help but think that Nicole would fit that bill too.


End file.
